Betrayal
by Artemis Nox
Summary: Sango knew that what she was doing was wrong. So why was it that she could not stop? It must really be as Jean Genet said. "Anyone who hasn't experienced the ecstasy of betrayal knows nothing about ecstasy at all."
1. Yearning

**I felt guilty for going MIA with Mist Child, so I wrote this. Simple enough. I may come back and edit it though, 'cause it didn't really come out as planned.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Inuyasha_, or any of its associations.**

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Sango could not believe that she had actually done what she just did for a number of reasons. The first one that popped into her currently reeling head was that this was betrayal. Just by chasing after this man was betraying so many people, so many things. She was betraying Inuyasha, first and foremost; since the two could not even stand one another it should have been obvious that Sango could only pick one side. She was betraying Miroku, the man to whom she promised she would spend her life with. Just by harboring the feelings she had for Sesshomaru was betraying the poor monk. Sango was betraying her best friend Kagome, for not telling the girl of her attraction to him and secretly sneaking away at night to go find the demon lord, without even a peep to her supposedly designated secret keeper. Sango was even betraying herself, her own common sense, by believing that feeling this way was perfectly fine.

So why was it that she kept doing it anyway? Sango knew as soon as she asked herself that the question was pointless. Why not keep on as she was? That was the true question. Whenever Sesshomaru was around, she itched with carefully concealed excitement. The passion came from nowhere, a miniscule greedy flame that had sparked from next to nothing, but growing more and more each day as it ate away her entire being. Before long, it was alive as alive could be, and there was no way anyone could stop it.

Now, here she stood, watching him as he rested so silently. Sango was sure that Sesshomaru knew she was there long before she had even caught onto his trail, but the thought only excited her more. Knowing that he had to be aware of her presence made her heart beat faster, gazing at his impassive face made her blood rush trough every inch of her body, down to her fingers and toes. Sango noiselessly slid down to sit at the trunk of the tree, carefully peering out to watch the object of her limerence.

Nearly nothing brought as much pleasure and simulation to her senses as sheerly imagining how every aspect of Sesshomaru's existence would feel to her. Sango could feel it all now, even as she sat, mesmerized, at the trunk of the tree. His skin would be smooth, like porcelain, yet warm like a cozy fire on a winter day, his touch gentle, his hair silken. She imagined that his breath would feel like a relaxing breeze, and that his sighs would sound like that breeze flowing through the very trees surrounding her. If only he would let one slip when she was near!

While part of her was content to watch Sesshomaru for an eternity, Sango often hoped that she would somehow get a chance to be with him. She longed for him to share the outrageous and boundless feelings she had, she wished for him to accept her into his life, but most of all she desired for him to crave her as well. Oh, if only, if only! She had even abandoned her friends in hopes of increasing the chances of their being together, and only regretted it for a fraction of a second. But in the back of her mind somewhere, Sango knew that she would have to die pining for Sesshomaru. He would never accept her, and that was just the way it had to be.

But Sango still hoped, prayed, and fantasized, destined to die gazing at what could not be had, yearning for what would be betrayal.


	2. Questions

**I decided that it wouldn't hurt to write a bit more for this story. So yeah. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Inuyasha_, or any of its associations. **

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The next day, Sesshomaru began to migrate again, but Sango followed closely behind. Even though it was her one last chance to return to her friends, her last chance to pretend like these feelings did not affect her, her last chance to cross back over the line into sanity, Sango threw it all to the winds and trailed on behind her unattainable love.

He travelled slowly, so there was no difficulty in keeping close to him. Sango lurked in the shadows, veiled herself with the trees, even though she always had the urge to come leaping out, knowing that it was pointless for her to hide.

What was it that kept her from tossing aside all pride and shame, just so she could be with him? Why was it that she insisted on refraining from acting upon her true desires? While watching Sesshomaru at night again, Sango realized the answer. She was petrified. Terrified that he would not only not accept her, but outright reject her, and refuse to let her follow him any further.

If that were to ever happen all she should do is throw herself off the nearest cliff, but Sango was too afraid of never being able to see him again. Sango silently berated herself. Was it that hard accept that she would have to die without him one way or another? She knew from the beginning that she could never really have him, did she not? Why would she rather follow him for eternity, perpetually in pain, than die knowing that she had at least conveyed her feelings to him? _What was wrong with her?_

Cowardly, that was what she was.

To cowardly to approach him, to talk to him, to look him in the eye and say, "I love you." And she hated herself for it. She was not raised to be that way. If her upbringing taught her anything, it was to always be proud, to always stay strong, and to _never_ be afraid. So why did she not rely on what she was taught? Because then she would be obligated to obey her own father's rule: never trust a demon. But she was willing to sacrifice her entire being for him.

So Sango was left with nothing. She had to start her foundation anew, find her courage in another source.

_But how?_

Sango let out an inaudible sigh, her entire body shaking. She snuggled closer to the tree at which she was sitting and returned her gaze to Sesshomaru. Why had her brown eyes left him in the first place? Things were just so much easier when all she focused on was the extraordinary being in front of her. Nothing mattered when she looked at Sesshomaru. Sango could relax to the point where it was possible she could just drift off into the realm of nonexistence. But she always held on, longing to be able to see him the next day, and all the days afterward.

"How long do you plan keep following me?" Sango's heart began to race.

His cool voice had sent shivers up and down her spine, and Sango relished every second of it. Even though she knew for a fact that Sesshomaru knew she was there, Sango had been positive that he would not speak to her. She did not know whether to be joyful that he had spoken to her, acknowledged her existence, or to be fearful that he may be preparing to kill her right now.

The blood rushed through Sango's body, bringing it to an entirely new level of warmth, and Sango pressed herself against the tree tightly. All sound died in her throat, and moving her mouth became hard labor. It required all of Sango's willpower to maintain that shallow breathing she was struggling with. Why did he have such an effect on her? Especially now, while she finally had a chance to speak directly to him; now, when she longed to answer his question; now, when all she yearned to do was whisper, "Forever."


	3. Cowardice

**Whoa, it's been a while. But hey, what's a better Valentine's Day gift than a new (and long awaited) chapter of a tragic never-gonna-happen love story? ...You don't feel the same way, do you?**

**Disclaimer: I don not own _Inuyasha_, or any of its associations. **

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It finally reached her. The sweet breath of air that saved her retched life had finally reached her. She choked and sputtered over it, trying desperately to pull the air into her lungs. A few meager coughs left her mouth as she covered it with a trembling hand. Why did he have such an effect on her? When Sango did not answer Sesshomaru's question, he made it clear that he tired of her presence. He rose and walked passed her, lingering only for the fraction of a second in front of her stunned and frozen body. And in that fraction of a second all of the air within Sango's body left her, freely following after Sesshomaru. It was only after he was far from her sight that Sango was able to breathe again.

Sango sighed shakily. She had come far too close to the edge of death that time. Even though she knew she would have to die without being blessed with his touch, she never thought that she would die _because_ of him. _Would it be better that way?_ she asked herself. _Would it be better to die close to him, because of him, instead of being far away while being killed by disease or famine—something other than him? _Sango shook her head slowly. It was her own damned fault that the breath left her body when Sesshomaru was near, not his. It was her fault that she pined for him so, not his. It was her own silent wish to be free from the misery, not his. If it were his desire to kill her, he would have done so long ago. He would not kill her. Not even if it was to save her from the agony she dared to call living.

But it mattered not either way. Even though Sango craved to be free from the prison her love created for her, she somehow wanted nothing more than to follow Sesshomaru for as long as she possibly could. Dying before her time would put an end to her chasing blindly after him; she could not—_would not_—let that happen. She was stronger than that. She _had_ to be stronger than that. Even in her newfound state of weakness—the weakness that comes with love—she would not allow herself to fall that low. She still had her pride, did she not? The pride of a demon slayer. She still had it, even if her love went against the principle of her people's existence. If she held on to nothing else, Sango would hold onto her pride—and with it her life.

So all that was left was to wait. She had to wait to regain her strength; she had to wait to regain her confidence. Then she would speak to him—then she would tell him. She would tell him of her feelings, of her true intentions, so that she could finally stop wallowing in the misery she was so desperate to get away from—the misery of being a coward—so she would be able to say she had not been afraid. Being alone she could handle, but there was no way her bloodline would allow her to be a coward.

Sango nodded to herself, making a silent vow that she would tell Sesshomaru how she felt before she passed from the realm of the living. Even if it was with her dying breath, she would tell him of her maddening love for him. She would tell him. She _had _to tell him. It would be the grand finale of her extravagant show of betrayal. And it was the only thing left for her to do if she wished for her life to have meaning.


	4. Betrayal

**Well, _this_ certainly took a long time to wrap up. Oh well, it's done now. So yeah.**

**Disclaimer: I don not own _Inuyasha_, or any of its associations. **

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"I love you," Sango blurted before she lost her courage. It had been months since she made the promise to herself to tell Sesshomaru of her feelings, but now she had finally gone through with it. Sesshomaru actually stopped in his tracks, rather than sweeping past her as he had first intended. Sango could feel throat tightening, but she forced herself to breathe normally. She had not expected him to stop, but then again he might not have been expecting her confession. Sango herself could hardly believe she had gone through with it. But now, it did not matter if it was believed or expected—it was done. It had happened and no one could undo it. There could be no turning back.

No going back to her friends—the one she had abandoned in order to pursue her "love." There would be no going back to the days when she only _thought_ she was happy, the days when she _felt_ carefree, the days when she was _sane_.

She had to move forward. She could _only_ move forward. Sango knew that she was merely a shell of the woman she had been before, but she had every intention of rebuilding herself. She knew that she had next to nothing to construct herself with, but she would start from scratch of she had to. _Nothing_ was going to stop her from becoming the powerful woman she was before. It was a shame to even her that she had fallen as low as she had.

But at least she had somehow managed to stay true to her values, had she not? Her confession had required her to be strong, confident, _brave_. All of the virtues she had been taught to her demonstrate. She had not lost her principles after all. Or had she? After all, she had just admitted to loving a demon—the very same kind of beast her people pledged to destroy. The very same kind of beast that _murdered_ all of the people in her village—because after all, how different was Sesshomaru from Naraku really? Surely Sesshomaru had killed before, and there was no question that he would be willing to kill again. He was murderer, and that was all that mattered. So did it not make sense that her confession actually tore away from her the last of what she could cling to as morals? No longer could she walk proudly as a demon slayer. Her confession had made her betray her family, her village, her heritage.

So which was it? Had she stayed true, or had she strayed? Sango slowly shook her head, reminding herself that what she had done was done. She could not take it back, so it mattered not if her confession betrayed her morals or not. It was an act of betrayal to so many other things and so many other people anyway; there was no denying that she was a traitor. So she had to remain as strong as possible. Dwelling on the past was not the way to recreate the noble self she missed so dearly.

At that point Sesshomaru resumed his glide past her, not so much as uttering a word. Sango released a breath she had not been aware she was holding and stared at him as he walked by. The sigh that came from him as he passed her sounded strangely like a word, "Fine." Had he accepted her? Or was it just toleration? Either way, he had not outright rejected her and Sango could feel a small smile spreading across her face. Only a second passed before she could feel her leg muscles struggling with themselves, trying to follow and resisting the urge to do so all at once. Would it be right for her to go with him?

Once Sango felt herself slowly, painfully take the first step forward, the rest were quick to follow. She _would_ follow him, and she would do so until the life left her body.


End file.
